We arrive in Paris and Kevin has been moaning for atleast a week that his "fluffy head" needs a trim! So we walk past almost the entire Parisian hairdressing world all the while he looks in and says "i´m not getting my hair cut in there, those hairdressers are too gay!" referring to the male hairdressers inside the salons. I try to reason with him and say that really how does he know that and they are just people....NO! he exclaims I refuse!
So a couple of days later I head off to the post office to mail a few postcards, Kevin announces that he can see a hairdresser sign down the street so goes off to investigate, i send my postcards and figure he must have finally found somewhere as he isnt´back yet and no where to be seen on the street.
I wander down the street and Kevin comes flying out of a shop with a salon robe on announcing that he was having his hair cut, i get inside and find........well how do i start...........Kev´´s new best freind...."Lola"
Now this "lady" had the deepest voice and the shortest skirt and is fair to say "she" may have also had some stubble.......i think for the first time my husband was trying to avoid looking up "her" dress..............
Now Kevin will try and tell you he did this purely for the story....but I think we know better, I honestly think he was just frightened when "she" came out and asked in a voice huskier than Louis Armstrongs - "You wanna trim" - he just looked up at "her" towering over him and said "yes.........uh..........MAM????"
Poetic don´t you think?
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